


When He Fell From Heaven

by Madam_Marie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bottom Klaus Hargreeves, Child Abuse, Depression, Disappointment, Eventual Smut, Family Secrets, Griddy’s Doughnuts (Umbrella Academy), Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Klaus is an artist, Klaus is not in the UA, M/M, Modern Day, Original Character(s), Powerless Klaus Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Romance, Social Media, Top Dave, barista! klaus, ben isn't in the UA, bruh moments, firefighter! dave, gay relationships, kennys mom, low-key drinking problems, or so they thought, paramedic! ben, powerless! klaus, siblings letting you down, songfic?, sorry I suck at tags rip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Marie/pseuds/Madam_Marie
Summary: On the surface, Klaus Hargreeves is just your average struggling artist  trying to make ends meet. However, behind his charismatic personality and charming smile, Number Four hides a secret. A secret which may prove he isn't so different from his superhero siblings afterall.Dave Katz is a well mannered, good hearted fireman trying to survive in this world full of filth. That is until one fateful call, when a gorgeous man falls right into his arms (quite literally).Follow Klaus and Dave as their hectic worlds collide!





	When He Fell From Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> aight chief, imma keep it 100 w/ you: this is kinda an introductory chapter so it's a bit boring, but dont worry shits gonna get SPICY.  
also im not that great at writing so sorry if you have a seizure reading this. 
> 
> in this fic the other hargreeves siblings are kinda shitheads and vanya's powers are known so yeet. also if you have questions comment and ill try to clarify in a reply or in later chapters <3
> 
> This fic will contain sensitive language and cussing too. Make sure to read the tags as well!
> 
> kudos and comments are optional but always appreciated <33
> 
> Enjoy this bogus ass fic <3

“I really think you should enter some of your art in this contest, Klaus,” the ever-faithful Ben urged. His soft fingers, displaying clean cut nails, gently clutched a pastel pink slip of paper, its top layer coated in deep layers of black ink.

“That’s gonna be a no from me, Benpai,” his friend replied, waving one of his pale, tattooed hands dismissively. Of course, his adorably playful voice maintained its usual sing-song tone even as he vetoed the suggestion without any thought.

“C'mon, stop being difficult. You know your work is amazing, so stop trying to be humble about it.”

Endearing coffee brown eyes shifted their gaze over to the lanky painter to his left, who gracefully leaned over a silver industrial sink. Within his grasp was a ceramic mug, glistening streaks of water gliding down the rounded edges of the piece. Aggressively, the man scrubbed it thoroughly, lathering the gleaming cup in a thick layer of soap.

“It’s not that good. You just say that to be nice,” Klaus retorted under a huffed breath, breathtakingly verdant eyes remaining locked on his task.

Ben had parted his lips, fully prepared to shoot back one of his realist observations before a hasty internal debate decided against it. This type of behavior would be normal for anyone who grew up in his best friend’s situation.

‘This type of behavior’ referring to the constant, yet subtle, self-deprecation. He couldn’t be blamed for it either, living in a household with publicly known child prodigies, or as others would call them “real-life superheroes.” It’s even worse when you don’t have a power or some life advantage like the rest. How could you learn to love yourself when your father had bestowed you with the lovely pet names of ‘disappointment’ and ‘waste of space’?

“Whatcha’ daydreaming about, Benny bear?”

It was that familiar frisky voice that broke Ben from his internal analysis, his muscular body naturally jumping at the sudden snapback to reality. The pink flyer was then placed upon one of the steel countertops.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about some new doughnut recipe ideas,” he lied.

Klaus, however, did not seem to catch this and continued on a tangent about his certainly-not-family-friendly pastry ideas.

“Speaking of that, I was thinking. What if we took a glazed doughnut and put a shit ton of powdered sugar on it and called it the ‘Crackhead’. Wouldn’t that be great!?”

“Yeah, that’s definitely not happening. I’m pretty sure my parents would fire both of us and maybe disown me if we did that.”

The artist sighed dramatically at that, pouting cutely and crossing his skinny arms. “You’re no fun.”

“You’re no fun, Mr. ‘I refuse to enter my work in the art contest.’ Besides, I already told you I’ll be submitting some of my carpentry stuff, so it’s not like you’d be there alone. Shows like these are how people get discovered. Plus there’s a cash prize,” the other man reasoned sternly while he slid a tray of round pastries into the heated oven.

“Ughhhh, why are we back on this dumbass art show? You’re making me want to take drugs again,” Hargreeves complained while simultaneously rolling those emerald green eyes.

“Yeah keep rolling those and you might just find a brain back there.”

“You prick!” Number Four dramatically exclaimed, before giving his skeletal fingers a shake, sending a warm wave of clear droplets onto the other man.

“Don’t make me throw your skinny ass into the oven!”

“Do it! Then at least I’ll have a smokin’ hot body!”

“Shit man, that’s fucked up.”

A series of chuckles resonated from their throats, the higher pitch of Klaus’s voice harmonizing beautifully with the deeper octave of Ben’s.

This fit of hilarity certainly would’ve carried on if it wasn’t for the usual wave of customers flooding in through the front door, sounding the silvery chime of the bell.

Just like any ordinary coffee shop, Griddy’s (owned by Ben’s family and lovingly nicknamed ‘Shitty’s’ by Klaus) had an established group of consumers who came in regularly. Perhaps it was the smaller, more personal feel of the shop that encouraged more profound customer and employee relationships. After all, a family-owned business would prove to be far more personalized when compared to larger chain companies such as Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts.

“Hey, K. I’ll just take my usual,” spoke a middle-aged woman, whose voluptuously plump body wonderfully sported a navy blue winter jacket.

“Of course, Mrs. D. Oh yeah, how’s Kenny doing?” The lanky barista replied while his lithe fingers clutched a Pilot pen, its jet black ink scribbling a familiar series of letters onto the notepad held in his other hand.

“He’s been fine,” the woman started as she swiftly removed her smothering jacket, pulling the length of the sleeves down her arms. “On Saturday we celebrated his fourteenth birthday at a bowling alley. He wanted to invite some friends from school.”

“That sounds lovely,” Hargreeves commented while stuffing the aging notepad into his apron, the thin, fabric strings of the garment tied tightly around his tiny waist. “Did he get everything he asked for?”

“Yeah, he wanted this new thing by Nintendo...the Switch or Swatch or something like that.”  
Kenny’s mother proceeded to sit upon one of the golden leather stools placed before the counter, a fleshy finger rising to tuck a stray strand of auburn hair, which ran down to her shoulders.

That was when the man’s gaze befell the set of freshly done, clean-cut acrylic nails plastered upon her hands, his gaze igniting like diamonds set ablaze.

“Holy shit, I love your nails!” His charming voice exclaimed, its sweet symphony bouncing off the faded walls of the shop.

A few moments later, his contagious smile spread to the woman across the counter, her coral-colored lips spreading into a toothy grin. “Thanks! I just got them done,” she started. “I decided to go with the crimson since fall is coming soon.”

Gracefully, her pale hand was held out towards the barista, early morning sunlight skipping across the smooth surface of her fingertips. Klaus’s skeletal digits slid beneath hers, cautiously holding up the woman's, emerald eyes silently observing the blood-like shade.

“The color really suits your hair,” he commented. “I’d get my nails done but I have this bad habit of biting them. Oh also, I’m broke.”

That drew a hearty chuckle out of Mrs. D, who playfully responded: “So is every other person in their twenties.”

Their gleeful conversation continued on, an aura of joy and harmony radiating from the two beings, enough to catch Ben’s attentive eye from halfway across Griddy’s.

A skilled hand clutched the warm handle of a steaming coffee pot, the piping hot, bitter liquid spilling from the glass in heated streams, pooling at the bottom of a maroon mug. Meanwhile, his attention trailed over to Hargreeves, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach and fuming with despair.

This awful feeling certainly stemmed from the world’s naive state, billions of people going about their lives, in a sweet state of ignorance. The thought was enough to haunt Ben Horror, even at his young age.

Today, his disgust was undeservingly aimed at ‘Kenny’s Mom’ who conversed so easily with the free-spirited brunette, completely unaware of his eternal pain. Her chocolate brown orbs met with his emerald green eyes that shine like the stars, yet would never know the repressed trauma that hides behind that celestial sparkle.

Never would she know of the unjust and unfair amount of tears spilled from those eyes. Never would she know of the sleepless nights they were forced to endure, or the gruesome reality they witnessed.

To Kenny’s Mom, to the rest of the world, Klaus Hargreeves was but an ordinary man, albeit a quirky and somewhat lewd one. But Ben knew that there was so much more behind that worn-out smile and messy raven hair. Perhaps if this world was just, everyone would be able to see Number Four through the eyes of his endearing best friend.

“Christ on a cracker Ben, you’re getting coffee all over the place!!!”

Once again, it was the panic laced squawking of his coworker that shook Horror from his overpowering mind. In a frenzy, his eyes trailed downwards, only to see the coffee cup overflowing, searing umber drops dripping down the glassware, as a steady river of the drink continued to pour from the pitcher.

The man halted immediately, surprised by his own lack of attention. God, he was distracted today. By Klaus, by the perfectly crisp fall air, by the new job.

Oh yes! The new job! Well, new “job” isn’t exactly an accurate statement, more like “same job, different firehouse.”

“Shit, sorry,” Ben huffed beneath his frustrated breath.

“What’s with you today, Benpai?” Hargreeves inquired with furrowed eyebrows and a concerned frown.

“I’m just thinking about the transfer I guess.”

Yeah, he was definitely not going to admit he’d been internally analyzing Klaus all day. He knew his never-ending string of thoughts originated from his repressed worry. Not about the transfer, but rather the fact he wouldn’t be at Griddy’s with Klaus nearly as much as he is now. Call it “adoptive brother protectiveness” or something like that.

“ You’re gonna be fine, Benpai! You’re the best paramedic I know!”

“Klaus, I’m the only paramedic you know.”

“Yeah, and?”  
Ben sighed. Today was going to be a long-ass day.


End file.
